Desiring the Invisible
by StargazingED
Summary: Naive country girl Bess Crofter is recruited into the household of the up and coming Seymours. After the Earl of Hertford takes a sultry and disconcerting interest in the young servant she must learn to avoid his advances or give in to her every desire and leave behind the simple life she once loved. Court is a battle ground, who conquers is all a matter strategy. R&R please!
1. Chapter 1

I'm back! Hello, lovelies.

This is just a quick little drabble about Edward Seymour on the British show The Tudors, if you haven't watched it do so, it's amazing. Will try to follow the events of the show but may digress in parts just to give my own characters a bit more time in the spotlight.

Hope you enjoy.

P.S Bess may seem a bit Mary-Sue ish at first but hopefully that will get better over time. And I am also planning a steamy chapter so the rating may change later on.

Loves ya.

-E.

"_Bessie, come back!" Fifteen year old Bridget Crofter ran along the banks of the river on the edge of their village. "Bessie!"_

_Ahead of her a seven year old free spirit was twirling around under the early springtime sunlight, her wild curls bouncing beneath a daisy chain crown. The hand-me-down dress that she wore trailed on the grass, the hem stained with mud. _

"_Bess Crofter!" Her sister shrieked. _

_But the little one was giggling, like a peal of silver bells, as she darted away and it was nearly half an hour later when Bridget finally captured her unruly sibling. _

"_What do you think you're doing?" She puffed, snatching her around the waist to stop her escaping again. "Pa wants you home." _

_The young girl stared up at her sister with those impossibly large eyes of hers; a murky blue so dark that it could have been black. Then she pulled a crooked grin, aching with mischief. "The sun was out." Was all she said. _

_Bridget gazed despairingly at her. "Whatever will I do with you Bessie?" She toyed with the daisies atop at hair, and smiled softly. _

"You must never behave in a manner which may reflect poorly on the Lord and Lady of this house. You must be the incarnation of virtue, dignity and discretion." The steely eyes of Lady Eleanor Ginston, the first mistress and housekeeper of the Hertford household, surveyed each new maid meticulously. "If I deem you unworthy of a permanent place in my maid service, in the case that any imprudence be brought to my attention, then you will be immediately and indefinitely dismissed from my Lady's home. Is that clear?" The four women curtsied graciously. "Very well then, be about your duties and when my Lady returns you shall be introduced."

The women went to move away, head bowed neatly and hands linked at their fronts, but Lady Eleanor gave one pause.

"What is your name, girl?"

She hesitated and then looked up to meet her gaze with blue-black eyes the size of duck eggs. "Bess, milady."

Lady Eleanor tilted her head, aging eyes narrowed. "You are not of noble blood."

"Unfortunately not, milady, I have only the good grace of being a crofter's daughter." Her gaze fell back to the ground, shoulders slightly rolled forward; the general posture lacking the appearance of a lady of court.

"Bess _Crofter_, then." It was no question, and the young woman did not mistake it for so. She dipped her head in answer. "Well I do not believe a simple workman's daughter has any place awaiting the sister in law of the Queen of England. Who offered you such a position, may I ask?"

"It was the Lady Hertford's distant cousin, Margaret, milady. She took residency in the town beside where I grew up, as a teacher at the local school. At the time it was my wish to become a scholar also and the lady graciously took me under her wing to learn the trade. However, in order to learn I would have had to relinquish any paid work I could have performed to aid my family. After the death of my mother, my family could simply not afford me that pleasure. Miss Margaret heard of my troubles and recommended me for this household service."

"You speak well for a plain village girl, I will award you that. If it was indeed a relative of my Lady's own blood that afforded you this position I am inclined to give it to you. But be wary Bess Crofter, I will be watching you closely."

"I would expect nothing less, milady." Then the girl curtsied awkwardly.

Lady Eleanor pursed her lips disparagingly.

In the time that followed Bess Crofter found herself ill at ease in her new life, despite the kindness of the other maids unto her. Under their tuition she learned card games and how to dress and take care of the Lady's courtly gowns. They were very sweet but every so often one would make a comment she didn't understand, and the others would titter and then chastise.

It was only two days after Bess's appointment that the Lord and Lady of Hertford returned to their original dwelling in order to settle affairs and organise the remainder of their things to be brought to court. On the day they were due to arrive the weather was colder than it had been in a very long time. Storm clouds clumped thickly in the darkened skies, weighted with fat rain drops not yet released. The household were required to await the carriages and retinue outside in the courtyard, and the maids were to be dressed impeccably by order of Lady Eleanor.

When they were appointed to the Hertford service each maid servant had been given two sets of clothing that they may wear during work. Simple gown for when attending the Lady in her own chambers, an everyday dress that must be kept clean and starched at all times. It was dark blue with lacings up the spine and sweeping skirts. But even this plain garment was finer than anything Bess had possessed at the farm. The other was deep burgundy red, used only for when the Lady was entertaining prominent figures in their presence, or for important courtly affairs such as Christmas or New Year. Any other clothes that Lady Eleanor deemed appropriate were given permission to be brought along as well. The maids were expected to supply their own nightgowns, shoes, and any other jewels or embellishments they so wished. However from Bess's modest beginnings she had only a few dresses of her own, and only one pair of simple leather shoes, so her wardrobe fell very short of the finery the other maid servants owned. When she had packed her things into a trunk for the journey, one of the girls had snorted with giggles. Her name was Isabel, and she had apologised immediately afterwards. Bess did not begrudge her for it; these women were from wealthy noble families and owned dresses and gems that the farm girl could have only dreamed of.

The household lined up outside to greet their master and his guests. The maid servants dressed in their blue gowns. The others with heavy furs or fine cloaks draped around their shoulders, their hair coiled up and decorated with jewelled headbands or pieces. But Bess was not permitted to wear her worn roughspun cloak, one that betrayed her heritage as a crofter's daughter, and so shivered bare in the cold. Her long, thick waves of dark hair being her only embellishment. They were pulled up into a braided twist, dangling over one shoulder so it reached the waist.

As the retinue made its grand entrance into the courtyard of the Hertford Manor, Bess found herself unable to keep her eyes on the ground. Vibrant banners flew in the breeze, the brilliant colours so bright and vivid. The gold wrought on the skeleton of the Lady's wheelhouse snatched flashes on chilled late afternoon sunlight, and as she emerged from it she shimmered like an angel itself. In all her life Bess had never seen anything so fine. The precious stones that clustered at her ears and throat shone so beautifully the young crofter's daughter had to squint to view them properly. The swirling skirts of her emerald green gown flowed like liquid as she climbed down from the steps of her carriage.

_A seven year old free spirit was twirling around under the early springtime sunlight, her wild curls bouncing beneath a daisy chain crown. The hand-me-down dress that she wore trailed on the grass, the hem stained with mud. _

Maybe it was easier then, Bess thought, easier to dream about nobility when it was so far in the distance than when she could almost touch it and know it would never be hers.

The 1st Earl of Hertford remained seated atop the magnificent chestnut stead, and it was only upon being caught in those handsome, icy eyes of his that Bess could avert her gaze. Her eyes flickered around on the ground, her lips pressed together to prevent her breathing from thickening. The household bowed. Bess noticeably less gracefully than the other women and embarrassment tumbled down her spine uncomfortably.

"Lady Ginston," The Lady of Hertford greeted as she approached. "Wonderful presentation as ever." She turned her gaze upon the bent backs of the ladies. "These are my new serving maidens then, let me look upon you."

Slowly Bess straightened and could not allow herself to glance along the line to view her mistress properly. The Lady touched each of their hands as she was introduced formally to the women. She repeated their names in turn; Elizabeth, Isabel, Jane, and then it was her. Bess, Bess Crofter. Not the name of a noble girl, not good enough to serve at court. There was a pause in the courtyard as the girl curtsied clumsily once more.

"Well, who have we here?" The Lady's voice was gentle and amused, but Bess dare not look up.

"Bess, milady, Bess Crofter."

There was a brief silence, "Why do you look so senselessly ashamed Bess, Bess Crofter?" She chuckled lightly, "There is no fault with simple beginnings, and particularly not when mine own blood is one who has foundered your advances. Do not fear Mistress Crofter, serve me well and I do imagine we shall be good friends."

"Thank you Lady Hertford."

After their encounter as the Lady swept away at the arm of her elegant, wintry-eyed husband and the handmaidens were expected to fall in behind them. The young woman bowed her head as neatly as she could, painfully aware of peoples' eyes on her back.

The Lord and Lady of Hertford were due to dine with the Lord's brother and a close knit group of family friends that evening. It was to be the first official dinner that the serving maids would be attending on. In the early evening the women were taken by a game of cards with the mistress, and then dressed her in fine clothes and jewellery. It was a tricky business, what with all the layers and lacing and corsetry. The Lady was civil and quick to laugh but there was ice in her eyes too; more subtle than that of her husband, but it was there none the less. It was ambition, Bess realised. That is the look that court installs in your eyes, when you are so close to everything you want.

The Lady had selected a gown of heavy dusky pink samite, with a dangerously low neckline and daggered sleeves. Around her neck a choker of pearl, diamonds and precious pink stones was wound, with matching collections in her earlobes. Isabel and Jane brushed out her chocolate coloured hair and twisted it into a fashionable knot, before fastening a jewelled headdress atop it. She surveyed herself in a gilded looking glass before nodding in approval.

"Very well done, Ladies. I trust you will serve me adequately at court." Then she rose form her seat to face them. "And you Miss Crofter, what pray are your talents if they are not in the art of appearance?"

The girl bowed her head, "Milady, I have had little opportunity to pursue any talent other than that of farm work or house work. I am able, therefore, to scrub and cook and nurture horses, but little less."

"Come now, you speak better than any crofter's daughter I have ever heard. Why is that?"

"I had schooling, Milady. I can read and write and keep sums, which is a much praised ability in my home town but I assume common place here."

The Lady considered this, tilting her head. "Can you sing?"

"No, milady."

"Do you play any instruments?"

"No, milady."

"No singing, no playing, no card games…whatever am I to do with you?" The girl remained silent with a bowed head. She had no answer. The Lady laughed. "We shall see I suppose." Then she strode towards the door. "I will attend my husband and guests now and you will join us when the time arrives for supper to be served. You will not speak, you will not disgrace me."

The women curtsied, "Yes my Lady." "Yes, milady."

The Lady took three slow steps until she was nose to nose with Bess. "Now now Miss Crofter, I may find such vocabulary slurs somewhat quaint but I assure you that my Lord husband and the people at court will not. So as long as you are in my presence you will speak properly."

"I apologise mi- my Lady, I would never wish for the ignorance of my birth to offend or humiliate you."

"Trust me when I say, I will make sure it never does."

With a swirl of sunset pink and twinkling gems the Lady of Hertford was gone.

"Do not fear Bessie, she means no harm by it I am sure." It was Isabel that spoke.

She placed the Lady's fine brush down on the dressing table softly, "I hope you are right. I must endeavour to prove my worth this evening nevertheless and then the Lady may choose to keep me in her service, no matter how base born I am."

"No doubt you are right." Isabel caught her arm and turned her around. "Come, your dress is poorly fastened, let me assist you."

"Are you excited to wait upon a noble table, Bess?" Elizabeth asked.

"More than anythi-aahh!" The gasp cut sharply through the room and Bess squirmed. "That is too tight Isabel!"

"Nonsense." The laces snapped even tighter. "You want to impress the Lady, don't you?"

Bess's knuckles whitened as she grasped the edge of a nearby chair to steady herself. Then nodded shakily.

"I want only to impress the _Lord," _Elizabeth giggled as she twirled a piece of hair around her finger, "Or perhaps his brother. I have heard they are ever so handsome."

Isabel slapped at her arm, "Elizabeth, God be good, you gush like a moonstruck young girl!" But she chuckled none the less at the other girls joking pout.

"Oh no!" The women turned to look at Jane. "My second trunk has still not been delivered. I was so hoping to wear my green velvet gown this evening to officially meet the Lord. I have nothing to wear but this." She pulled at the skirts of her blue serving dress despairingly. Then looked up and rushed to Bess's side. "Sweet Bess please would you run to the stables and ask of it for me?"

"Erm, yes, yes I suppose I could." The young girl looked flustered and confused.

"I would go myself of course, but we have so little time and I wanted to rebind my hair before dinner." She gazed at Bess with wide brown eyes pleadingly.

"Very well, Jane. I will hurry back." She smiled and turned for the door.

"Thank you Bess, you are so very kind to me."

Pulling open the great doors below the Lady's chambers Bess stepped into the open air, the wind sinking greedy teeth into her bones the moment she ventured outside. The swollen sky seemed to churn queasily and then spit out the rain it carried. Within the minutes it took to cross the courtyard Bess was soaked to her skin. With a gasp of worry and distress the youth pulled up her skirt hastily in an attempt to stop the muddy ground marring its beauty. The worn leather of her supple boots splashed through forming puddles as she ran. Loose tendrils of hair flattened to her skin as they drank in gulps of rain, and the long braid that bounced against her bodice darkened in colour. Then suddenly she was ducking under the stable roof, breast heaving with quickened breath and fat droplets sliding down her face.

She could see no movement, save from the horses, in any of the stalls. "Hello?" There was only the sound of falling water that greeted her. "I am here to ask about the trunk of Mistress Jane of the Lady Hertford's handmaidens. Hello?" Bess walked the length of the stable, attempting to wring some water from her braid. "Is _anybody _here?" Shaking her head the girl crossed back through the courtyard, skidding on some wet ground and half falling. The palms of her hands were scratched as small stones raked them, and it stung awfully. As she stumbled six inches of her skirt was dunked into a muddy puddle. By the time she leapt back beneath the shelter of the manor roof that Bess sighed. Fat droplets seeped from her hair and onto her face; she brushed them off with irritation.

"Jane, nobody was there, I'm sor-" Bess halted, her sodden fingertips still on the handle of the door. The beautiful maiden before her was swathed in rich forest green velvet with a neckline of pearls. Her chestnut coloured hair was caught in a coil of delicate plaits above her head. Jane's lips quirked in a strange sadness.

"Oh Bess, I'm afraid I was mistaken, the trunk was here all along."

The girl's hands flattened her bodice self-consciously, "No matter, I can change my dress it is nothing."

"Oh Bessie, there is no time. We must away to the dining hall immediately."

"But-!"

Jane snatched her by the arm to pull her with them out of the chamber doors. "No buts. We must not be late."

Then Bess saw Jane and Elizabeth exchange a smirk. She was sure of it.


	2. Chapter 2

The ladies stood in the back of the dining room, near enough to the fire for Bess to feel lucky. A sickly feeling had struck upon her, going from too cold to too hot like she had could sometimes have that effect. But she stood still as a suit of armour, as if she wasn't there at all, concentrating on hiding her shivers, with head bowed and hands linked at her front like the other women. She could feel the heat of the flames licking away the dampness of her gown, but not quickly enough. She was well aware that the Lady Hertford had noticed and was praying that her husband did not swiftly follow.

The Lord Thomas Seymour drained his wine cup and Bess moved silently across the room, jug in hand, to refill it. The cold metal of the pouring bottle chinked against the rim of his cup, her trembling hands unable to stop it. Lord Thomas glanced up at the noise and the poor girl's heart dropped so far into her stomach she nearly retched. Bess was trapped in his eyes from a fraction of a second before bowing her head away and retreating. She kept her eyes on the ground as she retook her place beside the women, all too aware of the sudden silence that had overcome the room. Her heartbeat was in her ears.

"My Lady Hertford, I must say this new serving girl is most interesting."

Her back stiffened. Isabel's face inclined ever so slightly to look at her. Bess was so very pale, her fingertips shaking against the jug she held.

"I believe she was appointed only a few weeks past, so there is plenty of time for a dismissal before we depart back to London." The Lady's voice was curt. Bess could feel her eyes on her.

"Now, now, you mustn't be so unkind; the poor girl looks fit to faint." His voice was velvet, the sardonicism ripe and plump with practice.

Beneath his gaze the girl squirmed, almost imperceptibly. His stare drifted across her face and soaked her in. Those savage eyes so dark and wide and glassy. Her lips, so perfectly full, fell swollen and scarlet in a face reminiscent of hungry winters; with harsh cheekbones and a jawline that could slice glass. The icy whiteness of her skin and impossible ebony of her hair did not make for courtly beauty, but for a wild and ethereal spirit. The kind that could only be found in the North.

Thomas felt a flash in his body, and in his mind they were rolling. Draped in sheets to hide her wantonness, but their cries of pleasure ran hard and high. The girl threw back her head; those plump lips open, and moaned his name.

Then he was back in civilised company, the images buried deep in his skull but his gaze remained on the maiden.

"Enough talk of servants, Thomas." It was the Earl of Hertford that spoke then. Ice and honey, the husk of metal and the sound of pleasure. In Bess's belly an ember kindled.

"Well said, my husband." Lady Hertford aimed her voice at Bess then. "You may leave us. Attend a fire in the study. I am sure my Lords will wish to retire there presently." Lord Thomas inclined his head politely at the Lady while her husband said nothing.

Bess steadied herself and slowly paced the length of the dining hall towards the doors. As she passed the Lord Hertford a firm grip caught her by the arm. The girl stumbled slightly, her eyes moving up against her will to meet his face at the sudden attack. The man fixed her with that awful, wonderful stare of his and then simply pulled the wine jug from her fingers and let her go.

As the wooden doors closed behind her Bess slapped a hand to her mouth, pressing down on her lips to stop the tingling. What vile creature was she? To feel such strange and burning urges towards another woman's husband. Bess shook her head violently and wrenched open the door to the study so roughly her arm jarred. She jumped a little with the sudden pain. When the doors were closed and she knew she was alone Bess rested her head against the wood and did everything in her power to banish those images from her mind.

But the heat. Oh, that dangerous heat.

She thrashed, spinning to stand with her back flush to one panelled wall. The crown of her head tilted backwards, teeth pulling on bottom lip. Behind closed eyelids his face appeared, burning eyes gazing into hers. Then their lips reached to brush each other's.

"Stop." She whispered ever so softly.

_Don't stop._

"You must."

_Give in to it. Give everything to it. _

"No."

Blue-black eyes flew open. Straightening her bodice Bess loaded the fire grate with chopped wood and went about lighting it carefully. It took time to lay a good fire. Ones that's burned for hours without stopping had to be stacked like pyramids; the larger pieces forming a base for the smaller.

After some time the flames were jumping and Bess dared to wiggle her fingers close to it, tingles running through them as the tension dissolved. The warmth seeped up her arms into her chest stickily. The crofter's daughter paused and upon checking the room for signs of life unwound the twisting braid of her hair so that it could dry properly. A shower of coal black curls fell to her lower back as Bess released them from their bondage. An audible sigh escaping her mouth as her fingers raked through it, shaking it out. She arched her spine and the curls tumbled and rolled as if caught in the breeze.

"By all means do not let us interrupt you."

She whirled around, hands flying up to her chest in fright. Lord Thomas Seymour stood in the doorway, and Him. She curtsied so clumsily that the Lord Thomas snorted in derision. She wanted to die from humiliation. Her chest was heaving he noticed, perhaps from fear but he didn't mind. The way her breast strained against the neckline of her dress begged him to set them free.

"I- I apologise, milor- I mean my Lords. I-I'm sorry." She tumbled for the door, head bowed all the way, but Lord Thomas's arm reached out and stopped her.

"Come now, do not be so afraid." He leant close to face so she could feel his breath on her cheek. "I will not bite you."

Bess shrunk back against the wood as if wanting to dissolve into it. He brought two fingers under chin and forced her face up to his. Terrified blue-black eyes stared, monstrously large, into his. Her breaths could be heard in the silence of the room.

Thomas surveyed her carefully, turning her face from side to side in order to inspect it. "What a strange creature you are."

"Let me pass." He voice was quiet, but the words had slipped out in rebellion nonetheless. The Lord cocked an eyebrow. His face tilted and eyes narrowed slightly. Then pulled the door fully shut.

"A fierce little handmaiden then?" He asked her, dangerously quiet. Then turned to take a few swaggering strides towards the fire and the armchairs, the pressure on Bess's chin never relieving and forcing her to follow him. Lord Thomas slouched down in one of the seats and looked back up at her. "Where did you come from, girl? No serving maid with any experience would attend a supper sodden wet and dripping all over." Her shoulders were stiff. The man smirked knowingly. "Oh yes, we all took notice of that."

He was there. He was staring at her. Bess could feel his torturously cold eyes sinking into her side, and _that_ feeling unfurled beneath her stomach once more. _Stop looking at me_.

"That is more than enough. We have business to discuss and it does not involve you harassing my Lady wife's staff." His husky silk voice sliced through the room. Bess blinked slowly, then bowed her head and hurried to the door.

"I am sure I will see you again, girl, I am most interested in your story." Her eyes fell on Thomas Seymour and his smug little smile and snapped the door closed to block out his face.

"I do not know what you were thinking of." The Lady of Hertford snapped once Bess stood before her in the women's chambers once more. She was swathed in an expensive linen nightgown that dipped low across her breast and even for bed the Lady wore jewels. It was strange. Bess wondered for a moment why. But then realised she would be going to _him_, to _his _bed. And Bess thought if she was going to spend nights with him, she would wear jewels too. If she had them, which she didn't. And she didn't have a husband like Lord Hertford either. The crofter's daughter felt a stab of jealously then, when she looked at the Lady. "Honestly, you may not have served a noble table before Bess but common sense should at least dictate some decorum. Needless to say arriving in wet, muddy clothes does not show sufficient respect to myself or my husband's household."

"I apologise my Lady, I have no excuses."

The Lady was staring at her, cold pupils probing into Bess's soul. "Why were you out in the rain, Bess?" Her voice was quiet but direct. And somehow it scared the young girl. "Answer me."

Bess glanced ever so slightly behind her to where the other women were standing. They were carefully storing away the Lady's garb and jewels. Lady Anne caught the movement and looked up to them. "Leave us."

They did. Then Bess was expected to continue. "Go on."

"I do not say this to get my fellow servants in trouble, my Lady, but Jane believed one of her trunks had not been sent to the chambers. She wished to wear her finest gown for this evening and since the other women needed time to redress their hair I went across the courtyard to ask about the trunk, as she requested." She curled her shoulders in a sort of half shrug. "It began to rain and I had no time to change when I got back to the chambers."

Lady Anne reclined. "And yet Mistress Jane was in fact wearing a fine dress for supper. She had time to change."

"She said that she was mistaken my Lady, the trunk was there all along."

"Ah," Her voice was quiet. "And you did not suspect that she was tricking you perhaps? In an attempt to make you look incompetent to me."

Bess turned enormous blue-black eyes on the other woman. They were not as young or naïve as Lady Anne would have expected. "Why would she bother? I'm sure I will prove that to you myself given time."

It took some time before she answered, but when she did her voice was calm and composed. "You know your duty well, Bess. Despite everything, you have impressed me this evening. Had I been in your stead, at your age, then I most likely would not have come to the supper. It took courage to embarrass yourself like that for sake of duty."

The corners of her mouth twitched into a shy smile. "I was sure that I had ruined everything."

"No, not yet." She twisted the pin in her ear absently. "Tell me this, why was Mistress Jane so invested in looking her best? Was it in order to entice my Lord husband, or his brother?"

She was suspicious by nature then it seemed. Bess was uncomfortable. "I do not know."

"Yes you do. I know how women talk; god knows I had my fill at court."

"She said they were handsome. I'm not sure of anything else."

Lady Anne nodded thoughtfully. "And you? Do you think my husband or his brother handsome?"

Bess was taken aback, she shifted awkwardly. "I..I.."

"You…you, what?" The tone was hard and icy as a winter stone then. "Do you find them _handsome_?"

"Yes, my Lady." She blurted. "I have never seen such elegant men before."

"Well, at least I have one honest servant then." Lady Anne nodded. Her eyes were calculating the situation neatly, a court politician at work. "Perhaps I will not need four maids when we leave."

Bess was unsure of what to say, if anything at all. She chewed on her bottom lip instead and watched the Lady of the house mull things over while she swilled wine around in her cup. "At least you are honest enough." Then she nodded, pursing her lips. "I think Mistress Jane and Mistress Elizabeth might be better kept here, and only yourself and Isabel attend me at court." Lady Anne lifted one sculptured eyebrow. "So long as you keep yourself honest that is."

The girl nodded nervously. "You may go then."

Bess curtsied and turned to leave. "And Bess?" The woman called. "Do try your best not to wander into my brother-in-law's bed chamber on your way back to your own."

The girl's back was stiff as she walked away, her long curls bouncing softly. Lady Anne watched her go, sipping wine silently and considering the strange new appointment to her household. She had witnessed with her own eyes how Thomas had fawned over her. That did not concern her more than a mere flicker of jealousy, but the thought that this girl may grow to enchant her husband? Well that did not sit well with her. It was not that she felt excessive love towards her Lord husband, only that Lady Anne had never been a generous child. She hated sharing her toys then, and she hated sharing them now.

She finished the wine and lay back to wait for her husband to come to her bed. Even if he did come to fancy Bess Crofter, or even take her as a mistress, it was Lady Anne that he came to as husband and wife. It was the children that they made together that were legitimate heirs to Edward's title and lands. It was she that he gave gems and finery to, and her that stood beside him in court for all of England to gaze upon.

Lady Anne cared little and less for the young girl with her northern face and skinny bird like body. She was almost a child, nothing to envy. Besides, she wagered that Bess would be too terrified to oblige her husband should he even ask. But something about the murky depths of those blue-black eyes and the endless, ethereal beauty they held captive made her doubtful that Edward would not notice her.

She was right of course. Edward Seymour missed nothing as he cast his icy eyes around a room. So, naturally, as he passed Bess in the halls- her leaving the Lady, him walking to her- his stare fell upon her briefly and soaked her in all the way through to her soul. She bowed her head deeply as she went past, her features shrouded with dark curls. They swayed along her back. The mud stained hem of her gown rustled as she walked, its fine fabric not betrayed by the poor condition of its appearance.

Edward looked splendid. Still in his dinner clothes, his rich hair clean and tousled, the man strode with such confidence Bess couldn't help but feel a twinge of something in her stomach. Perhaps it was self-consciousness because she had appeared so clumsy and awkward in the presence of a man with this level of grace.

Bess kept her head angled to the floor as she walked, with her fingers clasped together at the front of her skirts, hoping not to attract attention.

"You." He called out in cut tones. "Girl." She halted a few steps away from where their paths would have crossed and curtsied. Edward's face was blank and stony. "You have been here a short time and are so obviously unaware of how to behave in the household of an Earl. So let me make myself clear. Never again will you embarrass yourself in such a fashion at my table nor will you speak in such reckless defiance to mine own blood, do you understand?"

She dipped her head in acceptance silently and Edward continued. "Secondly, as a servant in my home certain duties are expected of you if required." Bess hesitantly flicked her eyes up to look at him.

Her lips moved before she could stop them. "What expectations do you speak of my Lord?"

He was like a statue. A carved man with the features expected of such a masterpiece. Edward's face tilted down towards hers, as if to torture her with his closeness. The ghost of a smirk settled on his mouth. "Sex, you foolish girl. A servant is expected to oblige her betters if they so choose."

Bess shrunk backwards from him but his hand flashed out and grasped her face tightly so she could not look away. "Does that prospect frighten you?" His breath whispered over her skin and the girl shivered under his touch. His teeth glittered in his cruel smile. "Do not think I did not notice you at supper. You blushed when my brother merely looked at you. He _aroused_ you." Edward purred. "Like I arouse you now."

Her eyes could not stay on his face; the temptation was too great, because he would rat out the lies in her gaze. He would know then that his suspicions were correct. The man continued. "My brother wishes to have you." Her eyes finally flashed up to meet his and she struggled from his touch. Edward was too strong. As she writhed he caught her with a man's force and shoved her with one smooth movement backwards against the wall. Bess cried out and her flinches fell slackened. The Earl of Hertford held her throat in one hand, a simple threat that he could choke the life from her in moments. Blue-black eyes were wide with fright. Her hands rested heavily on his, ready to claw and fight should he strike.

"My brother wishes to have you." He repeated in a growl. "Will you indulge him?"

Bess's lips trembled. Finally she relented, shrinking back against the stone wall. Her eyes fell away. "I will.. do whatever you want."

"Yes," He answered with satisfaction. "You will." Cold eyes on her, Edward gave Bess's throat a little squeeze. It was playful in a harsh sort of way. He could feel the movement of her swallow beneath his grip. "But I do not want you fucking my brother- not here, not at court. He will chase you, be sure of that. Once he sets his sights of a woman Thomas can be an untirable lecher. _You will not give yourself to him_. Do you understand me, girl?"

The poor girl was shivering all over with tears starting to well in her dark eyes. She was almost breathless when she managed a shaky nod. Edward stepped back briskly. "Good."

Then the man turned from her and strode away down the corridor, Bess slid down the wall with one hand over her mouth to muffle a sob and the other around her neck where his touch still burned. Her eyes were closed so she did not see Edward Seymour glance back and smirk before entering his wife's chambers.

Lord Edward and Lady Anne decreed that the retinue of the Hertford household would depart for the court of King Henry VIII by the end of the week. Apparently Jane, Edward's sister, had been appointed to the service of Queen Anne Boleyn. The men of the Seymour family are treading carefully as the marriage between the King and Queen was fracturing before the eyes of the entire court. Jane could easily be next in line, as according to the gossip she had already captured the King's affections. A fabulous tourney has been arranged and Lady Anne insisted that the household reach court by this time in order to flaunt their new favour and power.

Bess, Jane, Isabel and Elizabeth were packing away all of Lady Hertford's clothes, jewels and headpieces into silk lined trunks for the journey. Bess was carefully laying each necklace into a flat pouch before stacking each one on top of each other into a jewellery box. Her fingertip traced the glittering surfaces of each precious gem.

One necklace was the most beautiful. It was laid gold with a heavy chain and a diamond the size of a duck egg hung from it. The perfectly cut facets shredding rainbow light when the sun caught it.

"Beautiful isn't it?" Isabel came and leaned over the arm of Bess's chair. "A wedding gift from the Earl to Lady Anne."

Bess stroked the crystal and then looked up to smile at Isabel. "It must be the prettiest thing I have ever touched."

"Our Lady is most lucky." Isabel patted Bess's shoulder once and then returned to her duties.

It was two days after the altercation with Edward and Bess had told no one of it. She had merely kept silent and invisible, hiding from him whenever possible. He had not said a word too her when the women attended on the family dinners as was to be expected, and out of apprehension Bess could not prevent herself from stealing glances at him whenever she could. The night before Bess had poured his wine and then he had looked at her.

She was slender and pale and dark all at once. Her breast strained in the tight bodice of her gown when she bent to pour, the graceful line of her neck bowed. As the cup was filled to the brim Bess dared a look and found his hard gaze firmly set on her face. He smirked as the colour of her flesh drained even whiter.

Thinking of his cold face Bess nodded absently. "Very lucky indeed." She muttered.

Later when all of the Countess's belongings were packed up neatly Isabel was toying with Bess's hair. She brushed it out and then pinned it up carefully. It was an elegant knot comprised of coiled braids at the back of her head. A few little tendrils hung down around her face softening its style. "There, lovely."

Jane and Elizabeth had been told that they were to remain in the house and were seething with rage towards the new girl. Jane looked over and laughed nastily. "Why lie to her Isabel?" Her blue eyes were daggers. "She looks like a commoner trying to be upper class."

"That is exactly what she is." Elizabeth sniggered.

Bess was at a loss at what to say. Isabel simply tucked her arm into Bess's and tossed her head. "I am sure that the nobles at court will not agree. But then, I suppose you won't ever find out as you will be remaining here." She smiled prettily and then the two girls turned and left the room to attend the dinner.

Bess had scrubbed the navy common day dress clean of any stain or spot of dirt and now wore it clean and laced impossibly tightly. Again that was courtesy of Isabel. Bess could barely breathe and the tiny frame of her body curved in and out. But Jane's words were resounding in her skull. She smoothed her hands over the bodice nervously.

"I look ridiculous." Bess complained as the two women walked the halls towards the dining hall for the final dinner before the household leave for court.

"No, you look beautiful and you look fit for a royal court. But you must commission some new gowns to be made for you, you cannot wear the same one _everyday _Bess." Isabel nudged her playfully, their hips bouncing together.

"And how am I to pay for these dresses?" Bess teased her. "I will have to find a rich husband when we get to court."

"Once you have him, see if he has a brother for me."

The next day it was raining heavily outside the window and there was ice in the air. Almost as much ice as in Edward's eyes. The trunks had been loaded and the women were dressing themselves in the early morning that Bess discovered a dress laid out on her bed when she returned from bathing. It was lovely. A dusky rich purple, with rustling skirts and tight sleeves. It scooped across her chest from the tips of her shoulders down to the swell of her breast. Isabel came to her side. "I meant what I said yesterday, you cannot wear the same dress each day." She took Bess in her arms. "So you may share mine."

Bess nestled into the woman's neck. "Thank you Isabel."

"Come now, Bessie, let us dress you up."

They giggled together. Isabel laced on the petticoat, then the corset and then finally the plum coloured gown. She swept Bess's dark hair over one shoulder so the shower of ebony curls fell all the way to her waist.

"See, now you cannot deny how beautiful you look my friend."

In the looking glass Bess's face was impossibly pale and reflecting the purple of her gown her blue-black eyes warmed so they seemed almost maroon. Isabel herself was wearing powdery blue with embroidered flowers on the bodice and lace peeking over her breasts. Her honey blonde hair was twisted up in a neat braided bun. She pulled a dove grey cloak over her shoulders, a soft fur collar on the neck.

Isabel was from a good family with sufficient wealth for beautiful things as she was the only and youngest daughter of the three children her father had. Her mother passed away when she was young and Isabel inherited her fine clothes. She wore the best of them now, to arrive for a new life in court.

She pulled out one last item and slid it up her friend's arms. It was a coat in a purple even darker than the dress, with daggered sleeves and a fastening at the centre of the waist. It had a hood to protect her hair.

Bess reached out and stroked Isabel's face. "I cannot thank you enough."

Isabel kissed both her cheeks. "Come now, Bessie, we mustn't keep the baggage train waiting."

In the courtyard the horses and the carriages were being prepared. Lord Hertford and his brother would be riding, the women in the carriage with a secondary wheelhouse rolling behind to carry the trunks and belongs of the family. Bess and Isabel walked behind Lady Anne almost giddy with excitement, Bess couldn't stop smiling. Jane and Elizabeth stood on the steps of the mansion with the grooms and the kitchen staff. Their faces were twisted with sourness.

The rain was pelting the ground and, taking direction from Isabel, Bess lifted her skirt a few inches from the ground to stop another mud soaked fiasco from occurring. The hood of her coat felt like the height of luxury.

A groomsman stood by the open door of the carriage and helped each woman up. He was young and handsome with a sweep of dark hair plastered to his head by the rain. Bess couldn't stop herself sending a sympathetic smile as he took her hand. Surprisingly the pad of his thumb ran along the line of her knuckles. It was out of turn for a simple groom. But there was something in his grin that showed he didn't care. And besides, who was Bess Crofter to judge a person by station when she was just a farm girl really.

"Thank you."

"Richard." He whispered. Bess blinked enormous blue-black eyes.

"Bess." She flashed her crooked, white teeth and then the door was closed tight.


	3. Chapter 3

When they finally arrived at the royal court of King Henry VIII Bess could hardly believe her eyes. There were crowds thronging through the city streets with more people than lived in Bess's entire hometown. It smelled like piss and meat cooking on the street vendor carts, like pleasure and life fulfilled. She loved every bit. They passed along the winding road and up to the enormous stone palace, through wrought iron, gilded gates. Atop them sat the English rose, the red and white of two ancient warring families came intertwined to peace.

Bess knew some of the history to that. Elizabeth Woodville, the common daughter of a Lancastrian family, who married King Edward. She was the white queen that gave birth to the current King Henry's mother. The single woman who had united a blood drenched country under the banner of fellowship. Bess smiled at the sight of it.

"This evening," Lady Anne drew the attention of her two ladies. "There is to be a courtly feast. It will be our first evening together as a household of importance. There will be dancing and dining and I am sure it will be a wonderful time." She smoothed her skirt neatly. Ice in her eyes. "You will not, under any circumstance, embarrass me or my family name. Is that perfectly clear to both of you?"

"Absolutely." Isabel nodded respectfully.

Lady Hertford surveyed her. "You are of a good family Isabel and you understand the courtesies attached to attending nobles, so you are in charge of teaching Bess how to behave. You will also have charge of the day to day running of our chambers and the chores that entails."

"Thank you, my Lady."

The woman nodded once and then readied herself to leave the carriage as it trundled to a halt. "I will be watching you both very carefully." The door swung open and Lady Anne took the offered hand on the other side. She was so graceful it made Bess's heart twinge. After her and Isabel climbed down, they fell into line behind their mistress and swept through the halls of the court towards the lavish new chambers of the Seymour family.

There was a large reception room with thick curtains at the edge of wide bay windows and richly upholstered furnishings. An adjourning room acted as the dining area with a long slender oak table, polished to a high shine and with enough chairs to fit twelve people. Bess could not stop staring at the opulent chandelier that hung above, the candle light dancing in the facets of the crystal dangling from it. There were separate bedchambers for the Lord and Lady which the girl found a little strange but of course did not comment on. Lord Hertford had a private study with a marble fireplace and mahogany desk. Then Bess and Isabel were shown their own bedchamber. And it was the most beautiful thing that Bess had ever seen.

It was equipped with two beds, one on either side of the room, and each had a wrought bedstead and clean white linen sheets. Their trunks had been laid at the foot of their beds. The floor was wooden panelled and a smooth crimson rug had been spread out at the centre of the room. A window cast light from the far end, with curtains that matched the carpet.

Bess covered her mouth with one hand, then turned to Isabel and embraced her, giggling. "This is perfect."

"I believe you will be very happy here, Bess. Come now, the feast will begin soon and we must dress our Lady."

It took almost three hours until Lady Anne was satisfied with her appearance for the grand entrance of the Seymour family. She had chosen a gown of burnt orange with glittering gems edging the plunging square neckline. The waist was nipped in tightly and the skirts were full and rustling. Isabel pinned up the Lady's hair up into an excessively intricate braided style, secured behind her jewelled headpiece. Expensive pearl earrings dangled from her lobes heavily. Bess slipped on her shoes and they had heels higher than she had ever seen. She wondered how Lady Anne could walk so easily in them.

After she was fully dressed Lady Anne turned her eyes over her ladies. She pursed her lips. Satisfied, they were ready to leave.

Lady Hertford took her husband's arm as they entered the doors into the grand hall, the serving maid's falling in behind. Isabel leant across to whisper some instructions as they walked.

"Do not talk to anyone unless they address you directly. Accept any offers to dance. Do not drink too much. Do not eat too much. Keep your head down Bess, and just try to enjoy yourself."

The opulence of the royal court was unbelievable. Long tables stood on either side and a great dais at one end. The King sat there in all his glory. Queen Anne beside him in scarlet and diamonds. Couples swarmed on the dance floor and nobles chatted with crystal wine glasses between their fingers. The Lord and Lady Hertford dissolved into the crowd and Isabel and Bess stood at the edge of the throngs of dancers to watch.

A man passed by with a tray of wine glasses and Isabel snuck two from it. The farm girl had never tasted wine before and the thickness cloyed her pallet, but she swallowed it down in quick gulps. "You do not have to finish it all at once. Continue like that and you will be completely sloshed by the end of the evening." Isabel giggled. Bess just grinned at her as a serving boy refilled her cup.

The girl pointed to the dancers. "A friend of my eldest sister in the village came to court once. Her name was Annabelle, just a kitchen maid but she and the other girls would sneak up to the window and watch all the nobles dancing. When she came home one Christmas she taught us all." Bess smiled softly, remembering. "We must have looked so silly. She took us all into the village square, all the little girls in their dirty dresses and taught us to swirl around like Lords and Ladies." She touched a curl of her hair. "Annabelle was a sweet girl; she did not mind one jot that I followed her and my sister around like a lost puppy. She even made me a daisy chain crown 'cause I learnt the quickest."

Isabel nudged her playfully. "Why don't you show me?"

Bess shook her head and the curls bounced. "With whom?"

The blonde surveyed the room quickly and then pointed towards the young groomsman from the Hertford home. He was looking over. "With him."

Bess glanced over, she blushed a little. "With Richard? No."

"You know his name, so I think yes."

"Oh stop it." Bess laughed, taking a drink of wine.

"He will not stop staring." Isabel flashed him a smile and beckoned him over subtly. Richard raised an eyebrow, then smiled boyishly and skirted through the crowd until he stood directly in front of Bess. He inclined his head politely.

"Miss."

"Richard."

"Would you care to dance?"

"I would love to."

He grinned at her in such a disarmingly attractive way Bess flushed the colour of a deep sunset. He ran the pad of his thumb over her knuckles when he took her hand, the same way he had done back at the house. Her pupils were dilated in the candlelight and hazy with the new experience of alcohol. The irises were so dark that he could barely find the line where blue ended and black began.

Richard was just a common man. He was tall with stocky shoulders from a life time of tending horses, and golden skin from working in the sun. He was dark haired and dark eyed with an easy smile. Bess was surprised to find that he had a lithe grace on the dance floor and strong arms to lift her with.

She actually found herself giggling when he did so. And a comfortable warmth spread over her skin when the pressure of his hands wrapped around her waist to seize her from the ground.

It was nice. He was nice. Perhaps Richard was the kind of man she would marry one day. A nice man. Richard was almost like a slice of home in a foreign land. As they twirled together the warmth suddenly evaporated. Bess was caught in the gaze of Edward Seymour and his icy eyes. He did not look impressed.

Before the evening ended Bess danced four times with Richard and stood with him for the remainder of it. Every now and then she would catch him gazing down at her with bright eyes. It would make her blush every time. They were swirling around with Bess's skirt unfurled like blooming flower petals when Isabel called over to her as she passed, being spun by her own partner. "Our Lady is departing."

The women broke apart from their partners, curtsied quickly and turned to go. Richard caught her arm gently, raised her hand to his mouth and gave her a sweet kiss on the knuckles. "I hope to see more of you, miss."

"Bess."

"Bess." He repeated softly. The girl flashed him one last look over her shoulder before falling into line beside Isabel, behind their Lady Anne.

"Take a message to my Lord husband." Bess looked up from where she was placing down the comb. "Ask him if we are to entertain his sister Lady Jane tomorrow evening as he mentioned. I will need to make the adequate preparations on the morn if so."

Isabel was unlacing the final layers of the Lady's petticoat in front of the looking glass. Her hair had been unbound and fell in curly locks down her back. Between her fingers she dangled two earrings; one a teardrop shaped diamond, the other a slender slice of emerald. She considered them absently and then added. "And ask him if he will visit my bed chamber tonight."

Bess set down the brush neatly beside the comb, curtsied and left the room. It took her a moment or two to summon the courage to knock firmly at the wood of his study door. Then the honey coated husk of his voice sounded. "Enter."

She did so quietly. Lord Hertford was seated in a chair near the fire with a book between his graceful fingers and a cup of wine of the table beside him. Bess walked to his side, curtsied and bowed her head. "My Lady bid me to ask whether your sister, the Lady Jane, would be dining in your private apartments tomorrow evening, so that she may make preparations for this on the morrow."

His eyes burned her so Bess did not dare look up. In the flickering light from the fire grate shadows gathered in the hollows of her collarbones, like bats. "Tell my Lady wife that my sister will indeed be joining us, along with my brother."

Bess dipped her head deeper in the way of a nod, nibbled her lips and hesitated. Lord Hertford regarded her. "Do you have something else to ask of me?" Perhaps he was trying to be gentle but the scrape of his fine voice was as cold as ever.

"My Lord…the Lady also asks if you will visit her bedchamber this evening."

There was a long silence. It settled heavy in the room like the thick air before a rain storm. Bess could hear her heartbeat thudding dully in her ears. Edward Seymour closed his book with a soft snap. "That boy you were dancing with, who was he?"

Bess looked up abruptly. "Er, R-Richard, my Lord. His name is Richard."

"And you know him how?" His beautiful eyes rested on her face where she fidgeted.

"He was a groom at your own home, my Lord, and now finds employment at the stables here at court." The girl hesitated and then couldn't stop herself. "May I ask why?"

"No you may not." Edward leaned to his side and poured fresh wine into his cup. "You may instead return to my wife and tell her that I will not be visiting her bed."

"Yes, my Lord." She dipped another curtsy and turned away.

"One moment." Bess froze where she stood, unsure whether she should turn to face him. "Come here." She did so, slowly at his beckoning. "Kneel." Bess found herself bending at his feet, chewing on her lip until it became swollen. Then Edward did something quite unexpected. He simply touched her face where a strand of hair was sticking to her cheek and tucked it behind her ear.

Bess looked up at him with those terrible blackened eyes of hers. Edward leaned forward slightly. "You will not flaunt yourself to that boy in my presence again." She blinked slowly.

"Flaunt myself?" She whispered.

He was colder than ever. A finger reached out and traced the plunging neckline of her gown, right across the swell of her breast. Bess shivered beneath his touch. "You let him touch you before the entire court. You allowed him to kiss your hand and touch your body. That is what I deem to be _flaunting_."

"Why are you so concerned with me?" Those first words were an immediate mistake but her lips would not stop moving "If you resent the lowness of my birth so, dismiss me and have done with the whole affair."

Lord Hertford's hands flashed forward and griped her wrists, wrenching her forwards so her back was bent up awkwardly where she knelt between his legs. Their faces were close together, Bess stifled a gasp. "It is not your birth which concerns me." He hissed.

"Then why must you torture me?" Her gaze met him from beneath the thick row of black lashes.

"You interest me." He told her simply. His grip tightened on her, pulling her upwards towards his face.

When their lips were just a whisper from each other; hers parted, his smirking, she asked him. "Why?"

"I am not sure." His voice was quiet. Then he released her. Flesh lingering on flesh. "Good night, Bess." She rose to her feet reluctantly, surprised that Edward knew her name or cared enough to use it. After managing one more curtsy and Bess left the room with trembling fingers and heat on her skin.


End file.
